


buzz

by guttersvoice



Category: Paranatural - Fandom
Genre: E-stim, Frottage, M/M, stupid boys with stupid feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guttersvoice/pseuds/guttersvoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you awake?" Isaac's whisper almost makes Max laugh, but it's a sleepover staple, really, and he'd probably have been disappointed if they'd fallen asleep without it.</p>
<p>"No," he replies flatly. "I'm fast asleep."</p>
<p>He punctuates this with an exaggerated snore, and Isaac punches him gently in the stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have a lot of weird paranatural headcanons and i also wanted to write e-stim  
> but i got a little carried away

It’s been a while since Max and Isaac last shared a bed. It wasn’t weird when they were in middle school, top-and-tailing during sleepovers, but nowadays they’re both a lot bigger, so there’s a lot more physical contact, and Max is brutally aware of every square inch of his skin that’s meeting Isaac’s right now.

Isaac’s a lot calmer than he is, though. That much is obvious, after what Max learned earlier.

No, wait.

This starts a little before that point.

Max is at school, sorting out his locker before he leaves. They don’t have any plans today, no word from Spender - who they still work with, even though they’re in high school and he’s remained behind teaching middle school History. He has a whole new Activity Club of little spectrals now, but he still calls the old crowd for assistance sometimes. He’s still technically their boss when it comes to spectral business, after all.

They’ve thought about setting up an activity club at this school, too, but it would just be a formality in the end. It’s not like the four of them ever hang out with anyone else willingly on a regular basis.

Max has thought about this a few times, mourning the loss of the ‘cool kid’ status he’d once aimed for. He’s firmly slotted into the ‘weirdo’ clique now, and he can’t bring himself to claw his way up the ladder.

He closes his locker and leaps back about an inch in shock: there’s a red-headed shark smiling widely at him. Johnny must have been waiting for a while, stood behind Max’s locker door. The thought is almost more disturbing than the coyote grin he’s giving Max as he steps forward, sending Max a step back.

It’s not that he’s actually frightened of Johnny - though his determination would scare anyone. Even now he hasn’t given up, and Max has been sick of it for a long time.

"Today? Really?"

Johnny shrugs, with a cackle that could send a chill down the back of a polar bear, and leans casually against some kid’s locker, preventing them from getting to it and ignoring their wails of dismay, completely focus on trying to intimidate Max.

"Naw, just wanted to say hi, ask how your day was, have a friendly chat." He’s being hideously sarcastic, but Max can’t afford to get into another fight on school grounds. And he’s really not in the mood for a fight, today. He’s pretty sure he can get away, if he can get outdoors. He just needs a distraction, but he doesn’t want to make any sudden movements. Needs to keep Johnny calm, like a wild animal.

The most important part of dealing with Johnny is thinking of him as a wild animal. It makes everything easier.

Today, Max is lucky. The moment he opens his mouth to forge a reply, he spots a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, I’d love to stand around and shoot the shit, Johnny, but I’m afraid I have a prior appointment to hit up." He darts around him and heads for Isaac, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him into a crowd in an attempt to escape his pursuer.

Isaac yelps and almost pulls away before he sees that it’s just Max, and he doesn’t even have to ask why.

"Is he in a good or a bad mood today, then?" he asks. Not that he needs to. It doesn’t matter, and Max has dragged him into it too, so he really needs to focus on getting away.

It’s not often that Isaac is pulled into Johnny-related escapades; Max doesn’t like to put that kind of pressure on his best friend usually, but it’s the third time this week that he’s been cornered by the obsessed asshole, and they’ve got a much better chance of getting away if they’re together. Or at least, if Johnny catches them, he’s much more likely to back off if Max is next to Isaac.

Because while Max is the taller of the two, he’s only grown upwards, into a lanky beanpole. Excellent for parkour - still his preferred exercise and method of travel - but not so great for taking hits. Isaac, however, has slowly continued to more closely resemble the weather god still living inside of him, broadening out, especially in the shoulders. He may not be as tall as Max, but in terms of total space taken up, he’s definitely bigger. There are other aspects that have changed about Isaac’s physical appearance, but he’s still got the same bright spiky hair and huge eyes and goofy smile, and he’s still Max’s best friend, so it’s not nearly as intimidating to Max as it seems to be to a lot of people.

They exit the school, and somehow, despite it seeming impossible, Johnny is right there, hands on hips, showing as many teeth as he possibly can.

"You running out on me to go on a date, huh, Puckett?" he sneers, but before Max can get out a snappy retort, Isaac is already barging past, pulling Max along by the wrist..

"Oh, fuck off, Johnny, you’re just jealous cause I get to monopolise all his time," he says, rolling his eyes, and Max swears he sees Johnny’s cheeks go pink as he gets led past. They’re a few steps away by the time he gathers himself enough to say anything, and shouts after them.

"That was only a joke, but you ladies have a nice time makin’ out over tea and cakes, if that’s really how it is!"

"I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you?" Isaac doesn’t shout the words, just sort of mumbles them, but they’re accompanied by a stinging pain in Max’s wrist where they’re touching, and he flinches away.

Isaac blinks at Max like he’d forgotton he was there.

"Did you just shock me?" Max isn’t completely sure; usually Isaac’s electricity is a lot sharper than that. Not that he’s been its victim very many times, but there have been accidents. That had been more like static than Isaac’s usual lightning, though: it hurt only for an instant, to the point that he’s already trying to figure out if he’d imagined it.

"Oh…dang, sorry," back to the faux-swears, which means Isaac’s anger has mostly dissipated. Out of the Activity Club, he’s the only one who still actively tries to rein back his language, other than when Max is around his little sister.

Who swears like a trooper, but that’s beside the point.

"Did I hurt you?" Isaac asks, nothing but concern in his wide eyes, and Max laughs and shakes his head as they turn the corner and begin heading up the hill. "I’ve been getting more static-y when I’m worked up, lately, against my will. Maybe he’s almost ready to come out." He knocks his knuckles against his head, and they share a laugh as they walk.

The rest of the day is relatively uneventful; they figure they may as well wander around Mayview high street while they’re together, and spend the late afternoon doing just that. Neither of them have any money to spend, and there’s not much to do in town, so it’s pretty boring; they take a long cut through the woods for no other reason than that they’re bored, and it kills some time.

It’s been a while since Max spent proper time with Isaac. They’re together a lot as parts of a group, but for best friends, they sure do tend to avoid seeing each other on a one-to-one basis. Max isn’t sure why, really. He’s thought about it a fair amount though: maybe it’s because Isaac is so much bigger than him now, maybe he’s a little intimidated, maybe, maybe, maybe. He has actively pushed away thoughts of a certain nature, mostly because they’re ridiculous. Isaac is his best friend, after all, there’s no way Max could ever think of him like that.

Of course, the harder you try to actively push such thoughts away, the more prevalent and persuasive those thoughts become. So when Isaac suggests they go to his and watch some cartoons or something, Max can’t be blamed when his chest tightens a little. He’d never suggest that his heart might have skipped a beat, but if this were a cheesy romance novel, that would probably be how it was described. Regardless of any gross feelings in his chest cavity or anywhere else, he agrees, giving his dad a quick call to keep him from panicking and organising a search party again.

Watching cartoons means the two of them curl up on Isaac’s bed with pillows between them and the wall and a wobbly, badly constructed tower of books keeping his laptop at a good level for both of them. It’s been a couple of months since they’ve done this, but it feels like no time at all. Which is good. Max was almost getting worried they were drifting apart, but nothing’s changed at all.


	2. Chapter 2

They watch something about a kid and a loud girl and a robot, and it’s a lot more fun than Max expected from the nonsense string of letters that make up its title. It’s also mercifully short, but even so, by the time they finish, it’s dark out.

Max gets up, preparing to leave, but he has a text from his dad (a miracle in and of itself).

2 late 2 return!! hope its ok 4 u 2 stay over…i locked the doors!

The timestamp is from an hour ago, so he’s no doubt snoring and talking in his sleep by now.

"Wow, uh. Thanks, dad."

He mumbles the sarcastic comment, but Isaac is already peering at the message.

"Guess you’ll have to borrow some of my pyjamas, huh?" He laughs, somehow totally at ease with this. Max finds it difficult to relate. "Top left drawer. I’m gonna see if my parents are awake enough to give you permission. I’ll knock when I come back, so go ahead and change."

Max wants to say something about how he’d really like to brush his teeth before bed, but Isaac is already gone. He roots around in his bag for some gum, instead, and chews it while going through Isaac’s pjs for something that might remotely fit him.

In the end, he’s swamped in the tshirt and the pants he chooses hang above his ankles. They’re comfy, though, and at least there’s no sparkly-eyed cartoon lesbians on these ones.

There’s a snort from behind him, and he whirls around to glare at Isaac.

"You said you’d knock, you ass!"

"Oh, I forgot," Isaac has a funny expression, one that Max can’t quite read, and his ears are red, but obviously Max is reading too much into little things - he’s laughing at him, that’s all. "Sorry. I put out a spare toothbrush for you, so you can do that while I get changed."

Max kind of wants to spit his gum in Isaac’s face, but it’s not like Isaac knows that he spent time worrying about that, so he lets it go. Instead, as a mediocre sort of revenge - definitely revenge, not an excuse for anything else, he reminds himself firmly - he finishes up in the bathroom as quickly as possible, and also ‘forgets’ to knock upon re-entering Isaac’s bedroom.

He hadn’t noticed, until now, that Isaac had been carefully choosing long-sleeved tops for a while now. It’s been months, probably; he can’t actually remember the last time he saw Isaac’s arms. Now that he’s looking at them, it’s obvious why that is.

On one occasion, Max got the chance to see the storm god Isaac acts as medium for, but it left quite the impression, so he immediately recognises the delicate blue and yellow curlicues spreading across Isaac’s shoulders and back, and the slim, pale green lines twisting down his arms and wrapping around his wrists. They’re a much bigger physical manifestation of Isaac’s shared nature than the sharp teeth he’s pretty sure Isaac thinks no-one’s noticed, and Max is overwhelmed, for a moment, by the urge to touch them, to run his hands over Isaac’s skin and feel if it’s raised or not, if the patterns have a different texture from the rest of them, if they taste as much like ozone as he sometimes smells —

He doesn’t do any of that, though; just brings Isaac’s attention to the fact that he’s there by clearing his throat.

This time, he sees the sparks crackle over Isaac’s skin for an instant as he turns, but the tense reverence that had caught Max’s breath is shattered immediately. Isaac is caught with his arms in the air and a blue-haired anime girl’s face stretched over his own. The sight punches a laugh out of Max’s chest.

Isaac makes a choked noise, and Max immediately feels bad, rushing across the room to help pull his friend’s shirt down over his broad torso and ignoring the static crawling across his skin the moment they make contact. He didn’t mean Isaac to misinterpret him like that; it’s obvious he’s self-conscious and now he’s only made that worse.

"No, dude, it’s just - there—" He yanks the shirt down. Isaac’s eyes are fixed on the floor, jaw set rigidly and face flushed. "You had Rei’s face slapped on yours for a moment there." Bright blue eyes flick up to meet his for barely an instant, but Isaac doesn’t say anything. "Look, I…"

Max sighs, pressing his lips together as he tries to find the right words to help Isaac understand that everything’s totally fine, that he has nothing to worry about.

"I know a lot of spectrals get weird about mediums, especially people like Isabel since she’s been raised that way," Is this working? He can’t tell. Isaac’s shoulders aren’t tensed up around his ears, at least. "But you know I’m not like that, Isaac. I think…I think it looks pretty cool."

He finishes his comforting as lamely as possible, not really able to voice his honest opinion right now. He doesn’t want to embarrass Isaac any further, especially since they’re about to be sharing a bed.

It seems to work, though; Isaac breathes a long exhale of relief, rustling every piece of paper in the room, and pulls Max into a tight hug. He tenses up for a second, not sure whether to expect more static, but there’s no ripple of electricity, just the warmth of his friend’s body against his, and he cant do anything but return the embrace. Isaac rests his forehead against his shoulder, and Max realises that they havent hugged in years, and maybe never as emotionally as this.

"Thank you." Isaac’s voice is tiny against Max’s shoulder; he squeezes and lets go. "Guess I was worried about nothing, huh?"

He rubs the back of his neck, cheeks still stained pink. He’s putting up less of a front than usual, though, and Max is pretty pleased with that.

So we return to where we began; two boys lying next to each other in the dark, one far tenser than the other, incredibly conscious that their knees are touching and that there are knuckles resting on his stomach that aren’t his own, and not sure if he’s happy about that or not.


	3. Chapter 3

Max isn’t sure if Isaac is this close because he has no choice, squashed into the bed, or if it’s just because he’s more comfortable this way. He’s not sure which he’d prefer, but he doesn’t want to say anything, in case it makes Isaac move away. That’s selfish, he knows, but it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong by it.

"Are you awake?" Isaac’s whisper almost makes Max laugh, but it’s a sleepover staple, really, and he’d probably have been disappointed if they’d fallen asleep without it.

"No," he replies flatly. "I’m fast asleep."

He punctuates this with an exaggerated snore, and Isaac punches him gently in the stomach. Max cracks his eyes open and is greeted with a toothy grin that he’s pretty sure would frighten any sane man. But he’s been involved in spectral affairs since he was twelve, so he just grins back.

"Thanks," Isaac mumbles. "For being cool about. Y’know. All this." He gestures vaguely at himself, and Max rolls his eyes. He’d rather gather Isaac up in his arms and stroke his hair till he falls asleep, but that’s the kind of thing that’d freak anyone out, so he scoffs instead.

"I’ve seen a ton of things like, five times weirder than you, and that’s just today. Are you serious?"

Isaac laughs. Max can’t tell if he’s just imagining it, or if his eyes really are glowing faintly blue.

"Sorry." He goes to roll onto his back, and nearly falls off the bed, grabbing onto Max in an attempt to keep himself steady and only dragging him down with him.

They land in a tangle of bedsheets and limbs, and Max flushes red when he realises he’s essentially straddling Isaac’s waist. More out of the sheer cliche than at the actual situation; it’s ridiculous that something like that could happen accidentally right at that moment.

Isaac is laughing, though, so Max does too, rolling off him and onto the floor next to him.

"Smooth," he comments, and Isaac snorts as he tries to rein in the giggles.

"I guess I’m more worried about my parents seeing them and thinking I’ve gone and got a tattoo, you know?" The snap back to seriousness is unexpected. Max had forgotten that Isaac had sucessfully managed to keep his parents in the dark somehow, even now. It’s pretty impressive, really. "Well, gotta come out to them eventually, right?"

It’s a joke, and Max knows it, but he also knows how forced his laughter winds up sounding. Which is stupid; he’s not even gay, he’s just been having some really gay thoughts lately. For a few months. Maybe a year or so.

Isaac doesn’t notice, though, apparently. Nor does he notice how quiet Max has gotten, but that’s mostly because he’s trying to pull himself and the blankets off the ground while Max is still on top of half of them, and mostly just entangling himself further. He laughs at Isaac as he gets up, and offers him a hand.

"Thanks. Hey, maybe you should sleep on the outer side of the bed," Isaac suggests as they try to sort out the duvet. "If you grab onto me you’re a lot less likely to pull the both of us down, right?"

Max wants to argue - he’s not that skinny - but he’s right, and they both know it, so when they lie down again, he has to just accept the arm slung around his waist to keep him in place. At least this time he’s been careful to lie facing away from Isaac; all he can see of him is his hand and most of his forearm. His shirt sleeve’s riding up just a little, and Max can just barely make out the green line curling around his wrist in the dark.

He shifts a little, so his fingers can ‘accidentally’ brush the pigmented skin. There’s no difference in texture, but there’s almost a buzz where the colour changes, and he feels Isaac’s breath catch behind him.

Or maybe not. Maybe he’s just imagined it.

But then Isaac moves, shifting to hold Max tighter and burying his face into the back of his neck.

"You can, if you want," he mumbles into Max’s nape.

"Huh?" Max barely understands Isaac’s invitation, distracted by the sudden hug. He’s grateful again that he’s not facing him; he must be bright red right now, and Isaac’s breath is hot against his neck. It’s stirring something that he pushes away desperately.

"You can touch it— them, I mean," Isaac’s stuttering a little, something Max has never heard before. It’s strange, hearing him that nervous about anything. "The, uh, markings."

It’s an invitation; and Max isn’t going to deny it. It might give him something to focus on other than the heat growing in the pit of his stomach, after all.

Which, he reminds himself forcefully, is just a physical reaction to a bunch of stimuli, and nothing to worry about at all.

He rests two fingers on Isaac’s wrist, as gently as he can, and passes over the pale green line. It is buzzing, sort of; humming almost, just the tiniest amount, and the sensation sends a shiver through him.

"You’re fizzy," he comments, and feels Isaac untense behind him. That alone spurs him to continue, and he traces the line up Isaac’s forearm, pushing his sleeve up and out of the way to keep going. He stops at his elbow, and goes backwards, following the curl around his wrist. It’s a more intimate gesture than Max has ever experienced, and he swallows heavily when Isaac pulls on his shoulder to get him to roll over.

He can’t refuse, that would be weirder, but he has to hope that Isaac doesn’t notice how red his face is.

Isaac doesn’t, too distracted by pulling his shirt off to give Max more access. Max feels a little guilty for staring, but Isaac really has broadened out in the shoulders and chest, and he hasn’t been able to see this properly until now, since he’s not let anyone see his torso for a while now.

Max reaches out almost reverentially to touch the spirals scattered generously across his shoulders, fading from yellow to a blue as bright as his eyes, and this time sees the spark of static travelling between Isaac’s skin and his fingers.

It stings, but it’s not so bad, and at least now he knows it’s just a sign of stress.

"You ok?" He’s more concerned for Isaac than for himself, laying his palm flat against Isaac’s collarbone and doing his best to ignore the tiny shocks that are sending all the wrong signals right down his spine.

Isaac nods, and Max realises for the first time that he’s blushing, too, and while he doesn’t dare entertain the thought of there being any chance of the reasons being the same, it’s reassuring to know that he’s not the only one feeling a little uncomfortable here, and it gives him enough confidence to start tracking his fingers over the patterns, slowly and carefully.

The spirals are just slightly raised, unlike the lines bisecting his arms, so the texture of Isaac’s skin is very different between his neck and his collarbone. For a moment, Max is struck by the urge to lick them, but he manages to remind himself that not only would that be really weird, it would probably hurt a lot more to get zapped in the mouth. So he resists once more, and continues ignoring how his own body is reacting to this entire situation, and hoping that Isaac just won’t notice.

Even as he thinks that, however, warm hands slip around him, resting carefully on his waist, and he freezes.

Isaac’s meeting his eyes without hesitation, though even in the dark he’s red to the tips of his ears, and he’s smiling enough that his pointed teeth are just barely visible.

"This is okay, right?"

Max can’t speak for a second, just gaping, frozen with his hand sort of fondling Isaac’s shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

Isaac’s hands can’t be that much warmer than the rest of him, but their heat is all Max can focus on right now, like a pair of brands held against his sides. It’s difficult to breathe, and for a dizzying second, he’s convinced his heart has stopped, or is moving at a thousand miles an hour, or both, somehow.

"Uh, yeah," he manages eventually, unable to look directly at Isaac’s eyes, but not wanting to stare at his bare chest either. His face is burning, and it’s not like either of them have said anything particularly embarrassing; he’s just overwhelmed by the quiet intimacy surrounding the two of them.

They lie there in silence for a short while, almost holding each other, cheeks flushed red and hearts pounding in their chests out of nervousness more than anything, neither sure if the other means the same as they do.

The moment is ended when Max abruptly draws his hand away from Isaac, yelping as quietly as possible at the spark flickering between the two of them. It was a little stronger than the static he’d felt earlier, but it’s actually not that unpleasant a sensation.

"Sorry—" Isaac apologises immediately, but Max shakes his head, letting an awkward little smile spread across his face and putting his hand back where it was. The tingling feeling between his hand and Isaac’s markings is a little stronger now than it was before, and he runs his hand from Isaac’s shoulder down his arm, stopping at his wrist. He pauses, glancing down at where their hands are almost meeting, and in that moment, Isaac moves, slowly, deliberately lacing his fingers with Max’s, blue eyes fixed on his face asking a question.

There are sparks, but they’re literal and harmless, and as he squeezes Isaac’s hand in a silent ‘yes’, Max feels the world shift a little around him. A lot of things make sense with such a simple gesture, and he’s sure he can feel his heartbeat slowing down as he accepts that it’s something that is actually happening, and actually okay. Isaac’s static is calming down too; most of him has stopped feeling so buzzy.

Max is sort of disappointed by this, but he can’t quite place the reason why.

He doesn’t worry too hard about it, though, because Isaac is shuffling across the bed a few inches towards him, so their noses are almost brushing.

He knows what’s coming, and wants it just as much, but he’s suddenly overcome by nervousness, and can’t close that last little gap. Isaac’s breath is warm and minty and close, and Max’s body feels heavy and clumsy and he can’t remember if Isaac’s ever talked about kissing anyone before, and thats more nervewracking than the fact that this is Max’s first voluntary kiss.

"This is okay, right?" Isaac asks again, and Max nods shakily.

The kiss isn’t particularly exciting; they press their lips together briefly and then pull apart. But it breaks something between them, and they only waste about half a second looking at each other with wide eyes - as if neither of them had been expecting that - before their mouths are pushed against each other again, more forcefully this time.

Isaac pulls Max towards him by the waist, and Max moves his hands to Isaac’s shoulders, that faint fizzing sensation spreading through him again. Isaac’s lips are soft and warm against his, and he finds that instincts are driving him rather than what he’s seen in movies; he does know, however, that he needs to introduce his tongue at some point.

As soon as he parts his lips to do so, Isaac matches him, and the kiss becomes a lot sloppier all of a sudden. He presses on, though, running his tongue over where their bottom lips meet, and meeting Isaac’s tongue in the middle. Its not until he get caught on one does he remember how sharp Isaac’s teeth are now, though, and he pulls back with an embarrassingly high-pitched noise of discomfort.

"Shoot, I’m sorry, are you ok?" Isaac’s face is full of concern, and Max can’t help but smile and relax immediately. He really likes Isaac, and the realisation is a lot more comfortable than he expected.

"Not even bleeding," he reassures him, sticking his tongue out as evidence and wiggling it about.

Isaac laughs, which makes Max laugh too, and before he know it, he’s kissing him over and over, little pecks between laughter. It doesn’t take that long for them to deepen the kiss again, laughter dying in the name of teenage hormones. He’s more careful this time, tongue rubbing against Isaac’s and darting along the roof of his mouth and running over his lips. There’s drool on the pillow they’re sharing, but neither of them notice. Isaac slips his hands under Max’s shirt, keeping the same position but this time with direct skin contact, and this tiny gesture both knocks the breath out of Max and spurs him to kiss harder, his own hands moving down Isaac’s chest just a little.

It’s at this moment, as Max shifts the angle they’re at so he’s the tiniest bit on top of Isaac, that static passes between them again, but this time inside Isaac’s mouth, zapping Max’s tongue, and he yelps and pulls back again.

Isaac says something, probably another apology, but Max is a little distracted by the fact that the sensation did far more than just hurt him; a shiver ran right through him, and heat is rising not just in his face but in the rest of his body.

He almost feels like he should apologise, but he’s not sure Isaac has even noticed how much getting his tongue pretty much electrocuted has turned Max on. His expression only comes across as worried, and Max realises he hasn’t said anything yet.

"I’m ok," he mumbles, sure he must be bright red but pressing on anyway, as honest as possible. "It, uh, felt pretty good, actually. I don’t mind if it happens again."

Was that a bit too honest, perhaps?

Isaac’s as scarlet as he is, now, but at least he’s not worried any more. His thumb rubs little circles at the bottom of Max’s ribcage, and he’s looking anywhere but at him. Sharp teeth worry at his lip.

"You liked it?"

His voice is low and tentative, and Max realises that what Isaac is actually asking is whether he’d like it to happen again.

He’s not completely sure; he’s not supposed to like that sort of thing, right? He’d never considered himself masochistic in any way, but then, he supposed, he’d never gotten close enough to someone to try anything. And it was a very specific, momentary pain. If Isaac is careful, he’ll come away completely unharmed.

Max is sure he can trust Isaac that much.

"Yeah," he replies, and kisses him again before they have to discuss it any more. Isaac’s mouth curves into a smile against his, and before he knows it hes been pulled closer, torsos pressed together. His arms are trapped between them, but he doesn’t really care, because Isaac is warm and there’s a buzz under his skin that’s thrumming through both of them.


	5. Chapter 5

Pulled this close to Isaac, though, Max is all too aware of himself. It’s not entirely unpleasant - sensations seem heightened, probably just from increased blood flow, and every spot Isaac is touching is left shivering hotly - but there is the worry that any closer and Isaac might notice. And while Max is pretty clear on the fact that Isaac likes him back by this point, he’s not sure how ok Isaac might be with going any further.

But Isaac’s legs are pushing to tangle with his, and Isaac’s hands are sliding down to his hips, and Isaac is pressing them both together as they kiss as if to silently tell Max that he wants him.

Feeling another cock against his own, even through this many layers of fabric, is enough to get him fully hard, and the intensity knocks the breath out of him.

Isaac’s eyes aren’t round and worried when Max pulls away with a sharp, short inhale, not this time. This time he’s smiling in a way Max can only describe as coy, looking down between the two of them.

"Oh, wow, you really liked it, huh?" Max isn’t sure he’s ever heard Isaac talk like that to him; he sounds incredibly smug, much like when he’s tricked information out of the higher-ups, or beaten Isabel in anything. Like he’s won something. It occurs to Max that Isaac might have intended for this to happen all along, but there’s no way he can be sure of that. And it’s not like he minds, exactly.

He’s not even particularly embarrassed, now he knows Isaac’s as into this as he is, but the words send blood rushing to his face anyway.

"You too, though," he points out, a little indignant at the idea that Isaac would actually try to embarrass him over this, when he’s in the same position. He can feel how turned on Isaac is, it’s ridiculous that he should feel bad about it.

Isaac just smiles a little wider, though, slipping his hands round to the small of his back, and kisses him sweetly.

"Yeah," he keeps his reply simple, but he’s red, too, now, even if he is smiling. "Did you, uh, maybe…"

He trails off with an awkward shrug, and Max manages to laugh at him.

"No, I’m just gonna roll over and ignore both our boners and fall asleep and never talk about it again." Sarcasm drips off his tongue, but Isaac’s eyebrows still crease together a little. Max rolls his eyes, relaxing again now that he’s managed to make a joke. "Oh come on. If I rolled over, it wouldn’t be to ignore your dick."

He’s never really flirted with anyone before, not properly, so he’s not sure if Isaac’s expression is a good reaction or not. Not that he gets to see it for long; Isaac crushes their lips together, grip tightening and hips rocking against Max’s.

The kiss doesn’t last properly, both of them gasping a little at the sudden friction.

"God," Isaac breathes, resting their foreheads together. He’s shaking a little, and Max realises it’s because he’s trying to keep himself still. "Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?"

Max practically throws himself into a lip-bruising kiss, rolling them both over so Max is on top of Isaac, much like earlier - except this time, Max doesn’t waste time being embarrassed, too busy almost cutting his tongue on Isaac’s teeth, and moving to straddle him properly. This angle is a lot better; Isaac lets out a low groan as he grinds their hips together, and the sound throbs right through Max.

"I never let myself. Think about this, I mean," his voice comes out shakier than he expects it to, because now his mind is suggesting what Isaac might have been doing while thinking about this sort of thing. "Did you, uh…"

He trails off, not sure how crudely to phrase this. But Isaac’s already flushing red enough that Max can see it through the dark, and looking away, so he clearly understands where Max was going. He nods timidly, slowly meeting Max’s eyes.

"Yeah, I’ve, uh, touched myself thinking about you." Despite the hesitation, Isaac sounds a lot more confident than Max feels right now. He looks down, as if making a decision, and then smiles impishly up at Max, hands sliding casually from his waist to his ass. Max doesn’t get time to say anything; all he can manage is a bitten-back moan as Isaac squeezes none-too-gently and then pulls their hips together again.

His head falls to rest on Isaac’s shoulder while he breathes and tries to steady himself. There’s too much between them, and for a moment, all Max can think about is getting rid of both of their clothes, but he pushes the thought away as best he can. Isaac’s buzzing has grown stronger, but not enough to shock Max properly; it’s just sending a hum right through him from head to toe.

"All the time, actually," Isaac continues. His mouth is right by Max’s ear, and his breath is hot against it, sending shivers right through him. He can’t focus on anything but his words and his breath and the sensation of hands gripping and squeezing his ass. Doing something like this so soon after his first kiss seems like they’re moving a little fast when he thinks about it, but he can’t help it, and it’s not like either of them is making any move to stop. "Hey, Max, can I try something?"

Max pulls himself out of his aroused reverie, pushing himself up enough that they can look at each other properly again.

"Sure," he shrugs, aiming for nonchalance, though his cheeks are still flushed and he’s still a little breathless. And the idea that Isaac is about to try something new is more than a little intimidating, but he trusts him.

Isaac’s hands move up to Max’s lower back again - totally not accompanied by a disappointed little noise from Max, not ever - and he leans up for a brief kiss.

That’s all? Max finds himself wondering, and is immediately proven wrong.

Electricity crackles across his back, stinging and hot, and Max hears himself cry out. It cuts off as quickly as it started, and once he’s taken a few seconds to recover, he opens his eyes and sits up on Isaac’s lap.

That worried look is back in Isaac’s eyes, but he shouldn’t be; Max is a little shaky now, sure, but his cock is throbbing, straining against his pants. It’s almost painful, but nothing compared to what he just experienced. He’s too embarrassed to even look down at himself, but he can’t find the words to get Isaac to see what he’s doing to him.

With Max sat up like this, however, it doesn’t take long for Isaac to notice. His eyes go round, fixed on Max’s crotch, and a little ‘oh’ escapes him as he reaches out to rest a hand on Max’s hip, thumb rubbing tentatively over the head of his cock.

The sensation pulls him to realise with a start that both his briefs and the flimsy pyjama pants he’s borrowed are embarrassingly slick with precome. Looking down, he’s relieved to see it’s only a little, but simultaneously the image of Isaac actually touching him like that brings him back up to speed, and the pleasure hits him all at once.

No one else has ever touched his dick, and having Isaac be so gentle, with that almost mesmerised look on his face - it stirs things up inside Max.

If he’s honest, he hardly ever jerks off at all. Downsides of sharing your room with an 8-year-old ghost: while PJ is a pretty fun kid to have around, Max has never wanted to avoid a conversation more in his life. He’s tried it a couple of times in the shower, but it’s never done much for him, and he usually finds it pretty hard to focus on a solid image - or at least, to keep that image sexy. There’ve been a couple of times it’s been really good, but he always finds himself feeling guilty about the things he’s imagined, afterwards.

Now, however, with that expression on Isaac’s face, and the spiralling patterns spread across his broad shoulders, and the hand that’s starting to move up and down the whole length of his dick through two layers of fabric - two too many - he finds getting into it a lot easier.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took waaaay longer than intended, but its here and its finished

Max finds himself noticing the differences between himself and Isaac far more starkly than before. There's a hand resting on his thigh, as well as the one at his crotch, and they're so much broader than his own. Isaac's fingers are slim and surprisingly delicate, though, and he's being very gentle. Not that he's lacking enthusiasm, judging from the way he's breathing so heavily, and the steadily increasing staticky buzz where their bodies meet.  
  
The flush spreading across his face is delicious, and Max can't help but lean down to kiss him again. It's sloppy, and Isaac's arm is trapped awkwardly between them, rendering his hand basically unusable, but both of them are too focused on one another to care.  
  
Isaac makes a muffled little noise into Max's mouth, and his hips just barely buck upwards. It's a slight movement, but the friction jerks a moan out of Max; he bites it back immediately, but he can't deny its presence. He buries his face into Isaac's shoulder, face burning with shame.  
  
He finds himself being shook, Isaac's laughter rippling through both of them.  
  
"Come on, I thought we were over that!"  
  
Max is about to agree - it's stupid to still be this selfconscious at this point - but before he can make a move, Isaac's hands snake to his hips, holding him in place, and he rocks his own upwards again, far more deliberately. This time, Max really can't keep quiet, Isaac's actions drawing out a long moan that brings an even brighter flush to his cheeks, but which also makes fingers twitch noticably at his hips.  
  
"God," Isaac's voice is rough and a little shaky, and Max finds his heart skipping a beat. He did that. He did that to Isaac; made him sound like that. "You sound amazing, ok? You really, really don't need to be embarrassed, I, uh, you've--"  
  
He's lost for words, and a weird pride begins to swell in Max's chest. Isaac gets pretty flustered because of him fairly often, but usually it's down to making fun of him - this time it's because Max is hard and straddling him, and because he can't control the sounds coming from his own mouth.  
  
Max doesn't get very long to think about that, though, before hes pulled up away from the safety of Isaac's shoulder and into a clumsy kiss. Sharp teeth scrape awkwardly over his lip and he realises that Isaac might actually be as embarrassed as he is. It's a much more reassuring thought than he'd expected, and he takes advantage of his boosted confidence to shift himself back up into a sitting position. Eyes deliberately not meeting Isaac's, for fear of losing his nerve, Max reaches between them and presses his hand against Isaac's clothed erection.  
  
The angle isn't great for his wrist, so he can't move much, and there's a fair amount of fabric in the way, but its pretty clear that Isaac is bigger than him. This thought only lasts an instant, though; the noise Isaac makes - unabashedly loud, but with nervous blue sparks flickering across his shoulders - is more than enough to distract Max from comparing their bodies.  
  
He wants to do that some more.  
  
He wants to hear Isaac moan like that again, and more specifically, he wants to be the one making him moan.  
  
Max's fingers hover uncertainly at Isaac's waistband, and he glances up at him, about to ask permission - but the expression Isaac is making stuns him into silence.  
  
He looks needy, desperate; cheeks flushed and mouth open, there's a hunger in his eyes Max has never seen on anyone before.  
  
If he didn't know better, he'd swear time stopped for a few seconds, and his heart with it, but only an instant later Isaac is wriggling himself out from under Max, hands shaking violently as he yanks his pyjamas and his boxers off in one go.  
  
It's that easy, and then he's reclining naked in front of Max, who, for a second, can only gape, face heating up at the sight.  
  
Isaac looks like a god, even in his teenage bedroom, surrounded by familiarity. His skin is crackling audibly, and the lines and curls marking his possession are bright against the dark of the bedroom. There's more visible now that Max can see all of him; something that curves from Isaac's back and wraps around his hips to trail down his thighs, the same colour as his hair. For a second, he foolishly thinks they're actual wings, but no - like the rest of Isaac's mutations, they're tattoo-like and flat against his skin.  
  
And his cock, thick and hard and flushed dark against his pale stomach, is dripping precome, and Max can't take his eyes off it. He hasn't even noticed that Isaac is looking away, cheeks burning, while Max stares.  
  
'Stares' hardly covers it. Max is practically drooling; he's never wanted anything sexual in more than a fleeting instance, but now its all he can think of. The fact that he's bigger than Max doesn't matter anymore - he wants to feel it heavy on his tongue. He's not sure if he's _allowed_ to use his mouth, but Isaac looks delicious. He wants to know how he tastes.  
  
Instead, he licks his lips; then, crawling forward on the bed, presses them against Isaac's. They tingle where they meet.  
  
Max's hands creep up onto Isaac's hips. The wing patterns are warm to the touch, and textured like feathers. It's unnerving, and it sends a thrill through Max just as the sparks flickering between their tongues do.  
  
Isaac _whimpers_ , and Max swears he's trembling as he pushes his hips up like he's begging.  
  
It makes Max want to hear more of that, to feel like Isaac needs him like that.  
  
He certainly needs Isaac right now; every fibre in his body is screaming for him to just rut frantically against him, but if he could make Isaac say it --  
  
Max pulls away, a thin line of saliva still connecting them for a moment. Eyes fixed on Isaac's, both of them open-mouthed and red-faced, he trails his fingers ever-so-slowly down Isaac's thigh and back up, then along the arch of his hip. He lets his hand hover, and Isaac shivers needily.  
  
"Max," His voice is breathy and low, and his face is written with desperation. He looks amazing. Max bites his lip. "Please, I --"  
  
Broad hands rest heavy on Max's lower back, slipping under and pushing down two layers of clothing to grab his bare ass and squeeze roughly, prompting an embarrassing squeak from Max, followed by a low groan as lightning from Isaac's fingers makes his dick throb.   
  
Ok, so maybe he can't take as long as he wants teasing Isaac.  
  
Isaac smiles toothily, shoving Max's underwear down to his knees one-handed, the other rubbing and massaging Max's ass and thighs as slowly and cruelly as he had been only seconds before. Max can't help it; his hips rock forward needily and he bites his lip to hold back the involuntary sounds. His eyes flicker closed and he's so completely lost in the sensations that he doesn't notice Isaac pulling him closer until there's hot breath on his ear.  
  
This close, there's rainfall under the sound of Isaac's voice.  
  
"I wanna hear you," he says, and his words are as shaky as Max feels. His hand doesn't shake, though, as he pulls Max to sit on his lap again, and wraps his fingers around both of their cocks, holding them together. He keeps still for a few breaths, both of them trembling in the dark until Max can't anymore - he pushes his hips forward, the precome slick between them making movement easy, and moans, mouth wet against Isaac's throat. The sound is higher than he'd intended, and more of a gasp than anything, and his hips thrust jerkily, but he feels Isaac inhale sharply, and his grip tighten just slightly, and then he can't stop.  
  
Their mouths mash together clumsily; drool iswiped down both of their chins and neither of them care. Everything is so intense, and all Max knows is Isaac's hands and Isaac's tongue and Isaac's cock, hard and hot against his own; all he can hear is Isaac, every breath catching audibly in his throat. Isaac's hips thrusting up uncontrollably - Isaac's thighs shaking --  
  
"Ma-a-ax--!"  
  
Isaac's back arches as he comes, a pale stripe across his belly to match the ones along his arms. Without a moments hesitation, he grabs Max's waist, practically throwing him onto the bed, and pushes his legs apart.  
  
Max yelps, but before he can complain, Isaac's head is between his thighs, and his tongue is running along his length. It tingles, like it does when they kiss, and he barely gets the head into his spark-filled mouth before Max comes hard, shaking with the effort it takes not to just fuck Isaac's throat.  
  
He hears Isaac splutter a little, and sees the jizz dripping down his chin for barely an instant before the world goes black.  
  
  
Max comes to about two minutes later, with the light on and Isaac stood over him looking worried. He's still naked, to Max's relief - it really did happen, then.  
  
"A-are you ok? You passed out, I thought I might've done some damage with that last shock, or--"  
  
"I'm fine," he reassures Isaac, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His borrowed pyjama pants and boxers are still bunched up around his ankles, and he's not sure what the less embarrassing solution to this is. They're also both pretty damp, so he's not sure he wants to sleep in them, actually. "That was..." He shrugs, shakes his head, and leans forward to wrap his arms around Isaac's middle, burying his face in his chest.  
  
Isaac rests his chin on Max's head, arms holding him tight around his shoulders.  
  
"Yeah," he agrees, not needing to hear the rest of the sentence. They've both been waiting for this for a while, and now that it's happened, the world may not have changed, but it certainly makes a lot more sense.  
  
"I like you a lot," Max mumbles into the dip of Isaac's collarbone. "And I wanna do this kind of thing more, if you want to."  
  
Isaac nods enthusiastically, and lets go to sit down on the bed next to Max, big stupid grin all over his face. His best friend is still right here, and it's more of a relief than he expected it to be.  
  
"Whenever you like, man," His hand finds Max's, and their fingers knot together. "But only if we get to go on a date every now and then. Also we should probably get enough clothes on that if my parents want to barge in tomorrow morning they won't be scarred for life. You can borrow something clean, I'm sure I've got something."  
  
He goes to stand, to hunt down underwear, but Max pulls him back down, just for a second.  
  
They kiss, and rest their foreheads against each other's, and smile. There's a buzz between them, not just a physical one, and its the best feeling in the world.


End file.
